Past Life
by BlueSparx
Summary: The Satan Pit spoliers. An exploration into the past of the crew of Sanctuary Base 6, as mentioned by the Beast.
1. The Captain

Disclaimer: The Doctor and Rose would be together by now if I owned them.

Notes: When the Beast mentioned the past of the crew on Sanctuary Base 6, I was intrigued by what had happen to them. This is my version of what happened in their past. I'll try to update every day but I'm finding some of the characters are very difficult. Zack, however, wasn't. So let's start with him…

Oh, and please review!

**Past Life**

The Captain

"_The Captain, so scared of command…"_

"Nicky, MOVE!"

Zack stood in the control room, watching the monitor displaying the exterior of base three. He watched as Nicky ran, away from the fiery river that was catching up fast.

Nicky was inspected the hull of the base when the volcano exploded unexpectedly. Space wasn't to be predictable. But the base was designed to withstand the onslaught. Nicky wasn't.

"Come on, Nicky. I've got to close it before the lava gets here." Captain Ben Sampson pressed the button.

"Wait!" cried Zack. But it was too late. The door was lowering.

Nicky was still running, her panic clear even on the black and white monitor. She was so close, but the wave edge closer and closer, gaining speed as it rolled down hill, eating everything in its path.

"Come on…" Zack breathed, as the door continued lowering. It was nearly there…

The monitor went blank, the heat from the lava frying the electronics outside. But the computer told them the door was shut.

"Hold on, everyone," the Captain shouted.

The wave hit the base like a missile. The building shook dangerously and the heat could be felt as it radiated through the metal.

It died as quickly as it came.

The occupants of the room got back to work quickly, assessing any damage. They had been trained to deal with things like this. Nicky wasn't trained to deal with lava.

"Nicky?" Zack said into his com link. "Nicky, you there?" Static.

_Come on, _he thought. _Don't do this to me…_

"She's gone," said the Captain, his voice solemn. Everyone in the room stopped. "No life sign readings."

Zack stared at him. "She can't be," he whispered. Then he saw the monitor himself. He leant against the control board before his legs gave way.

The Captain never took his eyes from Zack. "Report. Officer Nicola Willis. Deceased."

The room was deathly quiet, but the silence was deafening to Zack. He clenched his eyes shut. Nicky, his best friend, dead.

When he signed up for the job, he wanted adventure. The chance to go places no one had ever been before. He had met Nicky and the two had become great friends. And he had done well in his job, rising through the ranks to second-in-command. But he still remained close to Nicky. He got on with everyone on board and was a good leader, but leaders weren't supposed to show weakness and so Nicky was the only person he could talk to. She wouldn't judge him; tell him he wasn't fit to lead, although he often felt like it.

The Captain's voice pulled him from his thoughts. "Okay people, let's go. Reboot code 33845. Tom, check the experiments, Zara…"

"Why didn't you wait, sir?"

"Zack, help…"

"Why didn't you wait, sir? She was so close…"

The room fell quiet again, but this time for a different reason. The Captain was a great leader, but no one dared challenge him.

The Captain looked straight at Zack and sighed. When he spoke, his voice was quiet. "I'm sorry Zack. If I had waited any longer the wave would have got in and destroyed the shield. I couldn't take the risk."

Zack's anger flared. He stood up and stared at the Captain, eyes ablaze. "Risk? This entire operation is a risk…"

The Captain pounded his fist onto the control panel, cutting Zack off. "Dammit, Zack! Do you think I enjoy doing this? I'm the Captain and I have to make decisions. If I hadn't have closed that door we all would have died. Would Nicky have wanted that?"

The Captain stopped suddenly and looked around the room. Seeing his crew staring at him seemed to bring back to his self. He ran his hand through his greying hair and lowered his voice so only Zack could hear. Zack didn't take his eyes off him.

"Zack, please understand. I've had to make many decisions. Many of which I didn't like. But I have to look at the facts and make the best choice given the circumstances."

Zack lowered his head. Zack understood. The universe was ruthless.

"You have to learn to make these decisions and stick by them, Zack. You have to stay strong. If anything happens to me Zack, you're in charge. You will have to make those choices."

Zack looked at the Captain. His hair was now almost grey, his face creased and eyes… his eyes were empty. They showed nothing, none of the spark that Zack remembered when he first met the Captain.

"I understand, Captain." And he did. He finally understood want being in command meant. He understood you had to stay strong no matter the circumstance, be ruthless if nesseccary. He understood you had to play God, whether you liked it or not...

And Zack knew he didn't like it.


	2. The Soldier

Disclaimer: Still don't own it…

Notes: Big shout out too my sister for helping me with this chapter and to Luna Lovegood5 for her fantastic suggestions. Thank you!

O.K, so you may think I'm looking at this too deeply, but I've got a muse and I have to write it. This is just my take on what happened. If you have a different view, feel free to review and tell me what you think. I'll be happy to discuss it with you:D

**Past Life**

The Soldier

"_The Soldier, haunted by the eyes of his wife…"_

She was beautiful.

A goddess, alluring and tempting.

And completely forbidden.

But John Jefferson, along with every other man in that place, was transfixed.

It was one of the rare nights out that his legion got; you had to make the most of it. So, after, nearly ten years in the army, Jefferson thought he had visited every bar and club, of every type, in the west of China.

But never, ever had he been unfaithful. He loved his wife, despite the number of miles between them. His visits home were few and far between, but that just made them even more special.

But as the exotic beauty danced in front of him, he realised that was about to change.

She took his hand. He didn't stop her.

* * *

Jefferson drank straight from the bottle. Maybe it would numb his pain.

John Jefferson had very few regrets. He was a soldier; he assessed every situation so that a logical decision could be made.

He stared at the ring on his finger, a simple silver band. He now realised that it meant nothing.

Jefferson was an old-fashioned man in a modern world. His mother and father had raised him a catholic, and while many of his beliefs had been forgotten, he still was a firm believer in the values of marriage, much to the ridicule of his men, many of whom were married themselves. But too often he had seen them in the arms of another woman, and while he never said anything aloud, he silently disapproved.

Jefferson took another long gulp of his drink. What he had done went against all his morals and beliefs. How could he be angry with his men when he had done it himself?

But the fact that killed him the most was that he had betrayed his wife. His wonderful, loving wife, always waiting patiently for his return. The guilt he felt at that was unbearable. How could he ever forgive himself?

How could she ever forgive him?

* * *

Eighteen months later, Jefferson found himself at the same bar. He had to get away and, for some reason, he had been drawn here. It was his church, a place where he could silently confess his sins.

A few weeks after that night, he had been given a six month break. He had still not managed to get rid of his guilt and he had no idea how to face his wife.

So he did the best he could.

He smiled. He told her she was beautiful. Bought her gifts- roses, chocolates, took her abroad. It eased his guilt for a while but it was always there, at the back of his head. Still, he tried to ignore it; he had served ten years in the army, but he still didn't have the courage to tell his wife.

And as the compliments and gifts grew, in both size and number, a tiny voice popped up in his mind.

_She knows_

How could she?

_Her eyes…_

And then Jefferson noticed. After every smile he gave her, every time he said 'I love you', he saw her eyes. She may have blushed and smiled, but her eyes told the really story. She knew something was wrong. He could see pain and sadness. He could see suffering.

But above everything else, he could see love. After everything he had done, she still loved him. He hated himself for that.

Jefferson had soon been called back to China. The goodbye and been difficult to say the least, but for entirely the wrong reason. And they both knew it.

And then last night, Jefferson had received a video call from England. His wife had died. A heart attack. She was thirty-five.

"We found this, sir, in her hand. Do you know what it means?"

The man showed him a note, with just two words, written in a shaky script; as if the writer was in a hurry….or was writing their last words.

There was no name, no clue to reveal what it meant. But Jefferson didn't need any- he knew exactly want it meant. Those two words made his heart stop and his blood run cold.

_I know_.


End file.
